


Slipping Oxford Comma

by CeruleanElf



Category: Heroes of the Storm (Video Game), Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, English Debates, F/M, Mages, Oxford Comma, Random - Freeform, Teachers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 08:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7353556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeruleanElf/pseuds/CeruleanElf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate universe, the magi of Dalaran hold positions as heads and instructors of a magic-turned high school. Both English teachers, Kael'thas and Jaina discuss the long-debated function of the Oxford comma. To use or not to use? That is, indeed, the question. Early experimental fic. Contains one profanity word and a case of fourth wall breaking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slipping Oxford Comma

Kael’thas strolls down the school corridor. He stands in regal formality, carrying a folder and a textbook close to his chest. Ansirem Runeweaver passes him a quick hello before rushing out the exit. Kael has time enough only to return a half-smile and raise an eyebrow at the manner of his pace.  _Why the hurry?_

Approaching the Teacher’s Lounge, he hears angry voices and hesitates to intrude. He thinks about leaving the teachers to their private matters when he hears Jaina’s voice, raw and exhausted. Taking a breath, he enters the open door to see Jaina and Modera at the front of the room near the chalkboard. He sits in the back of the room. Modera sees him, even as he quietly shifts into his seat, and shoots him a stern look as if to scorn him for intruding. Jaina has her back turned, standing and writing something on the chalkboard. She has her attention focused on Modera, not seeming to notice Kael.

 

“He even tried to define the word, ‘magic’ to me. Magic, Modera! I can’t even deal…” She writes the word on the chalkboard underneath her list of student problems. In the midst of silence, he squints to make out the rest of her writing.

 

Jaina conjures a mana latte and takes a sip. “It’s noon, and I’m already tired. If I wasn’t here, I’d have wine instead.”

 

“Well, it appears you have a problematic list on your hands,” Modera replies. “While I kindly admire your displaying problems within the classroom, I strongly advise you apply them to your own apparently broken style of teaching.”

 

“Broken style of teaching? Modera, if you can’t see…”

 

“Let me remind you, Miss Proudmoore, that I am head of the program. Anything you say or do against my orders will be held against you,” Modera speaks firmly. She brushes away the fold from her robe and takes up a large stack of papers, presumably research papers. Standing up, she continues, “If Kel’Thuzad were here, I’m sure he’d thoroughly agree with me.” As she turns to exit the lounge, she examines and glares at Kael. “Your timing is impeccable, Prince Kael’thas.”

 

“Archmage Modera,” he firmly speaks in a lower voice. He closes his eyes tightly for a second and catches Modera in the corner of his eye before she walks out. “Be as it may…”

 

“Excuse me, Sunstrider?” Modera cuts him off.

 

“Even as head, your treatment of clearly fatigued instructors is unfair. Appalling, I might add.”

 

“My treatment is only for the good of the school, and as the longest-standing instructor in the English department, I give sound advice. You, given your age, should know that, Kael’thas. Now, if you will both excuse me, I have papers to grade, and as you can see, they are a handful. If you need me, you know where my office is.”

 

Jaina waits until Modera has left the room to sit on top of a desk. “Oh, good. You’re here. Come out from the back there and sit beside me.” She pats on the area beside her to motion him over. He obeys, getting up from his seat, walking over with an air of grace, and sitting down some inches beside her.

 

“Are you well, Jaina?” he asks, noting dark circles under her eyes and fingernails tapping on the table. She sips on more of her latte.

 

“Well, I’m not exactly happy, either, but I’m glad you’re here. I need your company… and to help me with this problem!” She points to the word, “Oxford comma,” scribbled on the chalkboard. “Modera does nothing to help me. Khadgar is too worried about his portrayal in the upcoming prom. ’70 theme again, Kael. You know how excited he gets over that?!”

 

Kael chuckles. “Ah, not even Ansirem?”

 

“Oh, Ansirem. I haven’t seen him. Did he leave for lunch already?”

 

“I passed him on the way here. He seemed rather… in a hurry.”

 

“Oh. Well,” she lowers her voice to a whisper, “between you and me, I heard that when he was a student, he cheated on his exams to get to the top of the class.”

 

“Come, Jaina," Kael says, smirking. "That is just a rumor. For one having penned all the textbooks, I certainly doubt he has done so. If he had, he would have likely been expelled and enchanting daisies by now.”

 

She stifles a laugh. “For his daughter? Li Li told me that she doesn’t like magic… Oh, well. Come on. Help me with this Oxford comma business.” She stands up and motions to her list on the chalkboard. “This is a list of problems that need to be worked on amongst my students. Organized and all. If you recall, I have argument difficulties with my students.”

 

“Since when do you possess argument difficulties?”

 

“Since today. Now, what do you think of this?” She writes a sentence on the board:

_“On my way to the Nexus battlefield, I saw my horses, Nova and Zeratul.”_

 

Kael thinks for a moment, and then his eyes widen. “Jaina, did you… rename your horses after them?” He specifically remembers going all the way to Sanctuary, stuck in-between the noble Johanna (save for the excessive “apprentice” banter) and the phone-obsessed monk, Kharazim (ear-bleedingly annoying, but Kael required healing, and Kharazim was the only option). They had escorted him to the cow level known as Whimsyshire, passing through rainbow arches, beating down and healing through all the evil flowers, cuddle bears, and aggressive unicorns. Kael had seriously questioned the sanity of his two escorts and thought he, too, started to lose his mind when they came across one unicorn, a male, who did not appear to fight. Johanna laced a rein around the unicorn, and Kael brought him back as a gift for Jaina. She had named him Bartholomew, and Kael had kept his having gifted it to her a secret ever since.

 

Jaina gasps and glances back at her sentence. “What? No, I didn’t. Kael, why would I name  _my_  horses after the f*cks-everyone blondie and her partner, stealth-lien? Our worst enemies!”

 

“You just wrote it. Right there.”

 

“That’s not literal!”

 

“Jaina,” Kael softens as he approaches the chalkboard. He reads the sentence out to her, emphasizing the missing comma. “You clearly wrote, ‘I saw my horses, Nova and Zeratul.’ That means you renamed your horses after them.”

 

“Kael, seriously, I—”

 

“You should have added this.” He takes up a piece of chalk and draws a curve between the proper noun, “Nova,” and the conjunction, “and.” He puts the chalk down, reaches for the tissue box sitting on the podium, and wipes the chalk dust off his hands, smilng. “A comma, my lady.”

 

Jaina blinks although not entirely convinced. “That’s not how I would execute my sentence.”

 

“No? And why is this?”

 

“Because the comma is not needed for some places. You know, like business and journalism. The comma is actually not required in their departments. Different writing style.”

 

“I, for one, think you need the comma in most cases. Like this one.”

 

“How so? Explain to me, please.”

 

“When you include the comma here,” he speaks firmly, motioning to the placement, “you are grouping three items into a series—or a list, if you will.” He eyes her list of class problems, and a look of concern flashes on his face. “Now the sentence reads that you have seen three things on your way to the Nexus: your horses, then Nova, and then Zeratul. Is that better?”

 

“I suppose so, but I’ve never had a problem without it. It just always felt acceptable to me.”

 

“Right. There are, indeed, cases where you can leave out the Oxford comma.”

 

She giggles and smirks, her voice in a playful manner. “True, but what if I still don’t want to use it?”

 

He blushes slightly and smiles. “Well—”

 

They hear the sound of quickening footsteps and the sound of a familiar voice bouncing off a loudspeaker. Khadgar stands in the doorway. “RADGAR UP IN DIS CLUB. SUP, HOMIES? ARE YOU TWO READY FOR SOME GROOVY SCOOBY DOOBY NEXT SATURDAY?” He starts to dance.

 

Kael and Jaina look astonished at Khadgar’s immense ‘70s get-up, complete with flowers in his white hair and a pair of sunglasses over his eyes.

 

 _I can’t. The Nexus games are next Saturday_ , Kael feels tempted to answer, and then he hears Jaina say:

 

“Care to take the Oxford comma to the prom instead, Khadgar?”


End file.
